


Unexpected

by PinguMew98



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: F/F, lots of swearing, still figuring out where to go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7884490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinguMew98/pseuds/PinguMew98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just following along through the series...I guess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Story starts after episode 8 in season 1.

The phone rang. Darlene glanced knowing she wouldn’t see a caller id; no one who calls her is stupid enough to be registered. (Well ok, Angela was different) The ringing resonated in her booze besodened head. She groaned and reached for the offending electronic device in order to assuage her throbbing brain.

“Who the fuck wants to know?” Darlene slurred into the phone, not bothering to wait to hear who it was and or what they wanted. She was met with a moment of silence and the click of the other end. Darlene glared at her phone, as though it had committed a great offense and threw it haphazardly behind her.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
“Who the fuck wants to know?” Darlene’s voice spat through the receiver. Trenton simply hung up. She did not have time to deal with a combative, drunk Darlene; she knows how that night ends. Instead, the young Persian women attended to her classwork. 

But after five minutes of the steady scratching of pencil to paper, Trenton put her pencil down. Again she reached for her phone, staring at the contact list. She isn’t supposed to have Darlene’s number, that was supposed to be secret. 

Secrets. That was all F Society was really about; anonymity. They tried to cover themselves in a blanket of revolution, but long ago Trenton learned the real lessons of revolution. If she had actually met Elliot instead of Darlene, she probably wouldn’t have joined. His mood swings aside, she believed that he believed in economic freedom, but really, he was on a personal crusade. For what, Trenton couldn’t figure out. Conversely, Darlene was there for the anarchy. She just wanted to burn the system down, just so she could watch. And that fascinated Trenton. Darlene, fascinating Trenton.

She should have been doing her calculus ii homework, instead she found her eyes darting between the equations on her paper and her phone. It’s not like she actually expected Darlene to call her back, but it happened anyway. So when her screen lit up with the words “Caller ID Unknown”, it startled her.

Slowly, Trenton put her pencil down and reached for the buzzing device. As she drug her finger across the screen, the torrent of verbal abuse was already streaming from the speakers.

“…and seriously, who the fuck calls someone and then just fucking hangs up?” Darlene spat. “Who the fuck is this?”

Again, Trenton remained silent. Why did she even bother to call in the first place? It wasn’t like it could be done on a whim. Finding Darlene’s phone number had been difficult, not impossible, but definitely not a walk in the park. 

“Hey fucker.” Darlene snapped. “If you’re trying to get a location off this phone, you better forget it since I’ve got a spoofing GPS and LAC bouncing signal.”

Trenton could hear the slurs from the other end. Odds were Darlene was intoxicated. In a way, she wasn’t much better than her brother. Hitting the red ‘end’ button, Trenton gathered her jacket to make her way over to the arcade still thinking about why she had decided to call Darlene in the first place.  
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
“Oh you fucking hung up on me eh cocksucker!?” Darlene yelled into the phone. When she had retrieved the device and began screaming into it was a matter so far gone, Darlene had never considered her own curiosity at trying to figure out who had called her.

It was always a shitty experience when her brother didn’t remember who she was. This call just gave her a reason to be upset and to vent. In anger, Darlene hurled her phone against the wall, hearing the screen break as it connected.

Pushing back in her chair, which tumbled backwards and clacked against the ground, Darlene rummaged around her fridge for some bottle of alcohol she had buried within its depths.


End file.
